What Do You Mean, Vogons?
by RamblerReb
Summary: The team finds a strange visitor who emotes in complex similes.
1. Chapter 1

What Do You Mean, Vogons?

Sheppard stepped from the event horizon, P90 at port arms, scanning the area for hostiles and waiting for the familiar noises of his team following him. Upon hearing the third "bloop" (he still hadn't thought of a better word to describe the noise it made, despite numerous attempts over beers with Lorne), he gave the order to move out.

"Alright, McKay, let's look for that anomaly and get the hell out of here when it turns out to be another wasted trip."

"Your faith in the Daedalus's scanning abilities is both profound and likely well-justified," sighed McKay, who had strenuously objected to the trip. The Daedalus had reported a momentary reading on its long-range sensors indicating that a tear in the space-time fabric had occurred on this planet on its way by while stopped to fix a glitch in the hyperdrive, which McKay had scoffed at with more than his usual avuncular disdain, since P37-104 was known to be both long-uninhabited and free of useful technology, or, in fact, useful anything. A rare moment of complete accord between them on the necessity of the mission had resulted and had been promptly overruled by Dr. Weir, who, for a former UN negotiator, had a strange predilection for suspicion of bipartisanship, at least when it came to Sheppard and McKay. It probably had to do with that solar-system-destroying thing.

Beyond the DHD, a smattering of vaguely Greco-Roman ruins of the type they seemed to encounter virtually every damn where they went confronted them leeringly, and beyond them lay another goddam conifer forest, of the type Sheppard had sworn his mightiest oath never to enter again upon his return to Earth.

They strode forward, Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, and Ronon, with the rather odd air of casual wariness they had managed to acquire the ability to affect over the long years of being about to intrude on other people's happiness and way of life. McKay was peering intermittently at his scanner as they fanned out into a five-meter spread and moved off from the Stargate.

"Errr."

"Yes?"

"Hmmm."

"McKay!"

"Well, there _does_ seem to be a residual reading..."

McKay's obvious reluctance to admit that there might have been any basis in reality for the Daedalus's report was grating on Sheppard's nerves.

"Dammit, is it there or not?"

"That way," McKay said resignedly, and pointed.

"Was that so hard?" asked Sheppard, then winced as McKay expounded on just how hard that admission had come for him. The others maintained the silence of long-suffering fortitude in the face of great temptation to violence as they meandered in the indicated direction.

XXXXXX

"... And personally," McKay held forth at even greater length, "I don't see why _we_ had to come on this mission instead of any of those other damn redshirts-"

He broke off abruptly (causing no small amount of relief to his teammates in the process) as they crested a rise a few miles from the gate and came face to face with the strangest apparition any of them could recall having encountered on any of their many, many, gate travels to cause mischief and misery to persons wholly ignorant of mischief and misery's approach.

Before them stood a rather tallish, thinnish, unprepossessing specimen of _homo sapiens_, clad in a battered, threadbare dressing gown, even more distressed and mud-spattered bedroom slippers, and what appeared to be a pair of ragged, formerly blue-and-white-striped pajama bottoms. His brownish hair was long and scraggly, and a thick, luxuriant growth of beard (which irresistibly made Sheppard start humming "Jesus Done Left Chicago" to himself in his head) covered the lower half of his face.

They goggled. He goggled back, with some wordless working of his lower jaw upping the ante of dumbfoundedness. The apparition then raised the pot of incredulity with some aimless wandering of his left hand, as his right was clutching a rather nasty-looking bag of what appeared to be rabbit skin, which Shepherd noticed had a blue-and-white towel with big gold stars peeking from the top.

"Uh," began Sheppard incisively, "hi?"

The odd man gibbered demurely.

"My name's Colonel John Sheppard." He stuck out his hand.

The odd man looked at it like he'd been offered a possum which had some days earlier chosen the wrong time to cross a particularly busy thoroughfare.

"Shake?" prompted Sheppard, noticing for the first time what appeared to be a bone stuck somewhat dramatically, if such a thing may be said to have been done dramatically, in the man's beard.

The odd man slowly transferred the bag from his right hand to his left, then tentatively reached out and took Sheppard's outstretched hand. He shook it. He shook it and shook it.

After a bit, Sheppard found it agreeable to get his hand back.

"You're real!" said the man at last, speaking in a vocal style Sheppard seemed to recall from days in England listening to BBC radio. "I thought you were another hallucination, but I've never met you, and everyone else I've seen have been people I loathed, wouldn't you know it, so you must be real-"

Sheppard cut him off with a "simmer down" gesture. "Hey, hey, we get it. Who are you?"

"Dent. Arthur Dent," said Arthur Dent. He stuck his hand back out and Sheppard took it, shook once, and reclaimed his digits.

"Well, Mr. Dent-"

"Arthur, please..."

"Arthur, then. How did you get here?"

"Er..." Arthur seemed embarrassed suddenly, somewhat like a man who cannot explain to his wife how charges from the Moonlight Bunny Ranch came to be on his credit card bill dating to when he was supposed to be attending his father's funeral in Dunny-On-The-Wold, "Well, there was this Chesterfield sofa, you see... erm, perhaps we could get into that later?"

Arthur then held out his hand to Teyla, who graciously shook it with both of hers, saying now nice it was to meet him, and Ronon, who flipped him a jaunty salute and resumed staring uninterestedly into space, as he had been doing prior to this point.

While this was going on, Sheppard turned to McKay and raised his eyebrows.

"Well, ZZ McTop there is definitely human, and he's not the source of the tear, or giving off any radiation or anything, sooo..."

"Safe to take him back?"

"I guess. Let Carson check him out."

Sheppard turned to Arthur, who was tugging at his beard and looking at each of them in turn in the manner of a man who, upon being told by the attending physician at the emergency room that he has lost his testicles after a horrible deep-sea-fishing accident and being sedated after a perfectly understandable outburst of violence, has suddenly wakened to find it was all a mistake and a six-hundred-pound blue marlin did not, in fact, dine on his wedding tackle after all, and said, "So, Arthur, wanna come with us?"

"Erm, I don't suppose..."

"Yes?"

"... you have any tea?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Your attire seems somewhat... unusual, Arthur," said Teyla as they shambled with casual wariness or, in Arthur's case, casual obliviousness, back to the gate.

Arthur had been humming "Yellow Submarine" to himself but broke off when he finally realized he'd been addressed.

"Oh, er, yes," he stammered, "well, the Earth was blown up, you see, with all my clothes in it, so..."

Sheppard rounded on him suddenly. "Whaat?

"Well, it was a Thursday, which I've never got the hang of, and the council wanted to knock my house down to build a bypass. Then these big yellow ships showed up with these people called Vogons in them, nasty people, awful poetry-"

"What do you mean, 'Vogons?'"

"Vogons. Green chaps, noses on their heads, awfully shouty sorts. Anyhow, it turned out that my friend Ford wasn't from Guildford after all, but from a small planet somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse, if I recall correctly, I mean, I had just drunk three pints of bitter-"

"When was this, Arthur?"

"For me personally? I've been bouncing around in time a bit, you understand..."

"Yes, for you personally."

"Well, about five or six years, give or take."

"What year was it when you left?"

"Oh, God, nineteen-eighty-something, I think. Why?"

"Rodney?"

"Alternate universe. Has to be."

"I don't understand," said Arthur.

"Ok, Grizzly Adams," said McKay stridently, "here's the deal: infinite choices, infinite universes, co-existing side-by-side. Some are close to ours, some are radically different. In yours, the Earth was blown up, in ours, not so much. I like ours. Can we get moving now? I'm hungry."

"Ah," said Arthur, clearly no better off than before.

"Do not worry, Arthur," said Teyla, "I will explain everything to the best of my ability once we return to Atlantis."

Arthur looked grateful. It had been a very long time since anyone had been remotely kind to him, even before the three years he'd spent alone in his cave on prehistoric Earth. He wasn't sure how to react anymore, so he tried a cautious smile. She smiled back, so he figured he'd done all right and they continued to the gate.

Ronon hadn't had much to do up to this point, so he snorted and shook his head to remind everyone of his existence as they started moving again.

XXXXXX

"So there you were..."

"Yes, there we were, Ford and I, when this Chesterfield appeared in the meadow and Ford insisted we chase it down and jump on it, which honestly I was fine with, as I had only that morning decided to finally go mad and for once it seemed like the day was going to go my way. Ford tried to confuse me, as usual, by talking about the sofa belonging to some fellow named Eddy, but I just ignored him and concentrated on catching the couch."

Dr. Weir looked as if the only part of Arthur's story she was buying was the bit about going mad, but she gathered her wits and courage and soldiered on.

"Eddy?" she asked.

"Yes, Ford kept talking about him being in the space-time continuum and evidently the Chesterfield belonged to him."

"'Eddies... in the space-time continuum?'" piped up McKay.

"His very words!"

"I gotta go," said McKay suddenly, springing up. "Let me know when Brainy McMensaguy here says something remotely interesting. I have a feeling you won't be calling me anytime soon."

"I say," said Arthur with a similar degree of suddenness, "you wouldn't happen to know a chap named Zaphod, would you?"

"No."

"Pity. You'd like him."

"Hunh." Rodney chose to take this as a compliment. "Probably a cool guy then."

"Actually, he was an egotistical, self-centered, callous, chauvinistic git."

Arthur had said this last bit so placidly and matter-of-factly that Sheppard and Weir barked with laughter, Teyla diplomatically hid a smile, and Ronon looked at Arthur directly for the first time.

McKay looked around the room, saw which corner everyone was likely to be in, and, not to be out-suddened, darted from the conference room.

Suddenness suddenly decided that Atlantis was the happening place to be when, at that moment, Chuck's voice came over Weir's and Sheppard's radio with the announcement that the long-range sensors had picked up an approaching ship, and the automated message coming from it was asking for one Dentarthurdent, Earthman.

Eyes swiveled to Arthur, who saw the instant suspicion in all those eyes except Teyla's, whom he looked at sadly.

"I seem to be having tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle," he said.

As it turned out, McKay had been completely wrong about Arthur not being the source of the space-time tear from earlier, or, at least, not right in his not being the focus of it. Arthur, being from a Plural sector of the galaxy, was in fact a magnet for anomalies of all sorts. One opened up, as it had once before, just as Arthur said these fateful words and, as before, carried them to exactly the place Arthur would have least wanted them to go, since, the first time, it had resulted in a massive battle fleet being dispatched to destroy the Earth (which was saved only by a miscalculation of scale on the part of the putative destroyers, resulting in their entire fleet being swallowed by a small dog), while this time, it opened in the throne room of a Wraith hive ship, whose queen was in charge of a particularly large alliance. Unfortunately, it turns out that, in the Wraith language, Arthur's perfectly innocent statement was the equivalent of dropping the C-bomb on her.

Reaching out with her powerful mind through the fading tear, she focused in on the source of the offending remark, finding the hapless Arthur with little difficulty. She called the bridge and ordered a course set. This one, she swore, and any who sheltered him, would pay.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Arthur?" said Weir slowly,"anything you want to tell us?"

Arthur was flanging about mentally rather like a teenager trying desperately to explain exactly why his date is in the back seat of his car with her knickers in the front seat and his hand up her dress to her father while a double-barreled twelve-bore is staring unblinkingly at his forehead. Innocence, in other words, was not going to be a valid defense. One way or another, marriage had best be proposed.

"Slartibartfast!" Arthur blurted.

The others looked at him expectantly. Weir cocked her head and raised her eyebrow, which Arthur took as a sign to continue.

"The fellow who calls me that, er, Dentarthurdent. That's how I introduced myself to him, you see, and he thought it was all one word..." Arthur trailed off, realizing how incredibly lame this sounded.

"Well, anyway, I know him, and I don't know how he found me, but he's not a bad sort, rather kindly old fellow, actually. I mean, he didn't try to kill me, not like those bloody mice did..." he trailed off again, looking about beseechingly before settling on Teyla with a pleading look.

"Elizabeth, could we talk outside?" asked Teyla. "You, too, John. Arthur, we'll be back in a moment. Ronon will keep you company."

They stepped out. Ronon was looking at Arthur intently, which Arthur found not a little unsettling.

"Hey," he said.

"Yes?" said Arthur.

"That thing you said to McKay. Funny."

"Oh, thank you."

"Anything happens to anybody around here because of you, I'll kill you."

"Oh," said Arthur with a wan smile. "That's reassuring."

XXXXXX

"Elizabeth, I do not know how to explain it, but I do not feel that Arthur is being in any way deceptive or otherwise concealing anything. I sense only openness and good will from him."

"Believe it or not, my instinct is the same," sighed Weir. "I just can't see that man as any kind of threat. If he is, I need to hang up my gloves and get out of the people-reading business."

"Look, you guys know me, Mr. Suspicious," said Sheppard, "but damn if I don't feel the same way. But the fact is that weird stuff is happening around that guy, whether he wants it to or not. He can still perfectly innocently get us all just as dead as if he meant to do it."

"Elizabeth, he seems to trust me more than the rest of you. Allow me to speak to him alone in a more informal setting and perhaps I can get some answers."

"Hell, we've gotten answers to every question we've asked, and probably completely honest ones, they just don't make any damn sense! Vogons, mice, guys from Betelgeuse, jerks named Zaphod, inter-dimensional Chesterfield sofas, and now Slartibartfasts from space!" Sheppard exploded.

"If I can get a coherent narrative from him, perhaps we can piece together what is going on."

"I dunno..."

Weir walked over to Chuck as the others followed.

"Any more on that ship, Chuck?"

"Well, we've taken more readings and it appears that it is a probe of some kind. The message keeps repeating, asking for Dentarthurdent, Earthman, and says he's needed. It'll be here in about sixteen hours."

Weir turned to Teyla.

"You have sixteen hours."

XXXXXX

"Are you hungry, Arthur," Teyla asked as they walked down a corridor towards the mess area.

"A bit peckish, I suppose."

"Would you like something to eat?"

Arthur looked down at his ragged clothing, suddenly self-conscious. "Er," he said.

"Perhaps you would like to clean up and change, first."

"Yes, please."

"I will show you to some guest quarters and fetch you some clean clothes. Come."

She took him by the arm to lead him to the guest area, not missing the quick tensing and relaxing of Arthur's arm where she gripped it. She smiled inwardly as they changed direction.

They arrived at the room and she showed him how to use the facilities, then left him alone. He walked into the bathroom and looked in a real mirror for the first time in years. He saw the beard and the bone, the hair and the bathrobe, and wondered who he was looking at. He didn't recognize his eyes.

There was a comb and brush on the sink, and shampoo and soap in the bath, but no scissors or razor, so it looked like the beard was staying. At least he could get it clean. He started to comb out the tangles in his hair before getting in the shower.

XXXXXX

Arthur emerged from the steamy bathroom to find clothing laid out on the bed for him, t-shirt and trousers, underwear in an unopened package, fresh socks, and joy of joys, _a new pair of slippers_! There were also some hair ties on the night stand, for which Arthur silently thanked the thoughtful Teyla.

He finished toweling off and got dressed, marveling at Teyla's accurate eye when everything fit almost perfectly.

Arthur had just finished dressing when the door chimed.

"Come in!" he called, and Teyla obliged.

"Much better," she smiled at him, causing him to blush.

"I still look like Grizzly Adams," he said ruefully, tugging at his beard while being thankful for its presence to hide his embarrassment.

"I could take care of that for you," she offered, understanding the gesture if not the reference.

At the thought of Teyla shaving him, Arthur blanched. It had been a loooooooong time since a woman had touched him in any way whatever, and he didn't trust that fellow he'd seen in the mirror.

"I'll hang on to it, thanks. Really, thanks for the offer. And the hair ties. Very thoughtful," he said as he got one and pulled his hair back.

"I am having dinner delivered here for us, is that all right?"

Oh, God, no it wasn't. "Of course."

"I thought you might be nervous in the mess hall after spending so long alone."

Oh, Christ, woman, what the bloody hell are you thinking? "Very, very, thoughtful. I'll just sit over here," he said, taking a chair in the corner of the room.

"Arthur, please come and sit at the table."

"Yes, of course." He moved to where she indicated while she answered another door chime and got their trays.

They ate in silence for a bit before Teyla spoke.

"Arthur, I need to ask you some questions about the things that are going on around you. Can you help me?"

"I'll answer anything I can, of course."

"While you were in the shower, the city's long-range sensors picked up more ships. Wraith ships. Many Wraith ships. Our presence on this world is a secret, and as far as the Wraith know it is uninhabited. It seems somewhat... strange that several hive ships should suddenly decide to come here the day you arrive."

"Erp," said Arthur. "I really don't know what to say. Honestly. I don't even know what a Wraith _is_, outside the dictionary definition."

"They are a terrible enemy, who have killed many of my people and other peoples across this galaxy. We cannot defend ourselves against the number of ships which are coming and we do not have the power to leave. We need to know how they found us and, more importantly, what they want."

"Ah, well, I wish I knew, truly I do, but I just don't." Arthur waved his arms helplessly, completely at a loss. Wraith? Hive ships? What did this have to do with him?

"Well," said Teyla, "we have twenty-two hours to figure it out together."

Arthur stared at her, feeling a bit more like that fellow who'd been in the deep-sea-fishing accident than he'd have preferred.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"So, if I am understanding you correctly, this place is in something called the Pegasus Galaxy, the Wraith are some sort of space vampires, and you lot woke them up from hibernation to begin slaughtering all these poor people around the general area. Is that about right?"

"I would not put it _quite_ that way..."

"But essentially..." prompted Arthur.

"... Yes." sighed Teyla.

"Ah." Arthur frowned and rested his chin on his fist.

"And now you all are trying to clean up this mess you made, not always successfully, while also exploring the galaxy through these 'Stargate' things, going to people's planets who haven't invited you and mucking about with their lifestyles?"

"Again..."

"... Not the way you would put it, so I gathered."

"Perhaps we are straying from the point, Arthur." Teyla could have mentioned that she was not directly involved in the Wraith's initial awakening except through the misfortune of having been culled, but she felt it would be disloyal to her comrades, nor did she wish to drag up the role her own necklace had played in subsequent events.

"Honestly, Teyla, I have no clue why these 'Wraith' chappies would be interested in me. None whatever. Look, what about Slartibartfast's probe or whatever it is?"

"It repeats that 'Dentarthurdent" is needed, nothing more. It does not specify the nature of the need."

"Well, the last time I was 'needed' on Magrathea, they tried to remove my brain and dice it to read the Question."

"What question?"

"Oh, the Ultimate Question to the Ultimate Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything. Evidently, I have it in my head."

Teyla looked at him rather strangely.

"Only it isn't the right Question, you see, because the Golgafrinchans crashed with us, or rather us with them, I suppose, about two million years ago on Earth and the Golgafrinchans replaced the cave men who didn't live in caves. So the program was corrupted and the wrong question came out the other end."

Teyla was on the verge of goggling. "Program?"

"Well, the mice, you see, had paid for it all, the whole planet, to work out the Question. But the Vogons destroyed Earth right before Read Out, and it was all a cock-up."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. I suppose it doesn't make much sense when I put it that way..."

"Indeed."

"Yes."

"And they were trying to work out the Question, not the Answer?"

"They already had the Answer."

"Which is?"

Arthur looked a bit abashed and seemed reluctant to reply.

"Arthur?"

"Forty-two."

"I see. Would you excuse me for a few minutes, Arthur?"

XXXXXX

"Arthur may be insane."

Weir looked at Teyla with a raised eyebrow. "And you say that because..."

"He just told me that the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything is Forty-Two. I do not believe this accurately reflects reality."

"Well, Earth has a wide variety of beliefs and customs-"

"He also said that mice bought and paid for the Earth to be built, and that the last time he was on the planet this 'Slartibartfast' is from, the mice attempted to remove and dice his brain."

"He also said he got here by catching a Chesterfield on the fields of prehistoric Earth. You didn't have a problem then," Weir rejoined.

This was true. What had changed? His rather rigorous assessment of Atlantis's record thus far? He was from an alternate universe, perhaps these things were possible there.

"You are correct. I am being unfair. However, I do not believe he will be able to help us with the Wraith, and his presence may be unconnected with their approach."

"Don't tell me you've started believing in coincidences," Weir said with mock reproof.

"I shall return to Arthur and see that he is comfortable for the night. The probe will be here tomorrow."

"And the Wraith five hours after that."

XXXXXX

"Teyla," said Arthur when she returned to see to his needs, if any. She heard the hesitation in his voice.

"Yes?" Neutral. No indication of anything but polite curiosity.

"I apologize if the things I said earlier about your expedition here insulted you or made you unhappy. I didn't mean to."

"It is quite all right, Arthur. Many of your points were valid, if a bit... blunt."

"It's just been a very long time since I've had to be nice, you see, and I'm not sure how to be anymore. Most of my friends were in advertising, of course, and no one was really nice in the circles I ran in on Earth before the Vogons blew it up. That's probably why I wasn't all that upset about it at the time, until I thought about McDonald's. And then there was Zaphod and Ford and even Trillian wasn't very nice to me, and it seemed that everyone hated me, scorned me, or wanted to kill me, frequently all three, and of course I didn't understand what was going on most on the time, and that damn Guide was no help. And then that hellish interlude with the Golgafrinchans, they were telephone sanitizers and marketing executives and whatnot, and I realized I did the same thing, being useless, when I lived on Earth-" he stopped abruptly.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at Teyla in horror. "I haven't really spoken to anyone who didn't have branches for a while now. I guess it's all sort of spilling out at once."

"It is all right, Arthur. I am happy to be here for you to talk to. And I think you are _very_ nice." She had sat down during his ramble and now reached across the table to put her hand over his where it rested before him.

He dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I'm very tired," he said.

Teyla took his hand and drew him up from his chair. She led him to the bed and sat him down. He did as her hands directed without resistance. After taking the hair tie from his hair, she removed his slippers and lifted his legs into the bed as she lowered his torso with her other hand. He exhaled as his head lay on the pillow, and was already snoring lightly by the time Teyla drew the blanket over him. She brushed a stray lock from his forehead before turning away.

He could not see the tears that welled in her eyes as she turned out the lights and left.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The regular early morning yell of horror was Arthur Dent waking up and forgetting that he wasn't where he thought he was going to be waking up, namely, a dank, smelly cave on prehistoric Earth which he had called home because he couldn't think of a better name for it or find a better cave.

Unfortunately, it had attracted the notice of a pair of Marines who had been standing outside the door. They made an alacratous entrance, hoping for something to shoot, but instead found Arthur sitting on the bed looking around with his usual expression of placid befuddlement, which is a rather tricky combination to pull off, but one Arthur managed with practiced ease these days. He looked up into the muzzles of the Marines' P90s.

"Terribly sorry. Must have been a nightmare or some such. Would you mind awfully not aiming those at me? I admit it makes me a bit nervous."

After the Marines had checked the room to make sure it was clear, they withdrew and Arthur got up to make his toilet and re-tie his hair. After a few minutes the door chimed and Teyla appeared.

"Good morning, Arthur. I hear there was some excitement this morning."

Arthur looked embarrassed. "Yes, well, I had a sort of nightmare. For five straight years. I feel better now."

"Well, the probe has taken up orbit and is still asking for you. Would you care to accompany me to the gate room?"

XXXXXX

When the probe had received Atlantis's signal, the automated signal shut off and a jumbled, staticy image filled the screen where the command staff and Arthur stood in wait.

The image on the screen resolved itself into the shapes of Slartibartfast, which Arthur had expected, and Ford Prefect, which he certainly had not.

"Ah, Earthman, there you are-" began Slartibartfast, until Ford cut him off.

"Arthur, what the hell were you playing at, falling off the couch, you bloody fool!"

"Er, I-"

"Never mind that now," said Slartibartfast, "you are needed, Earthman. You must return to us. Great things are afoot."

Slartibartfast had probably meant that last bit to sound portentious, but, as Arthur now noticed, they were both sitting at what appeared to be a table with a red-checked cloth covering it, set in some sort of restaurant, with a large bowl of what to the eye looked like pasta before them, and both were toying with pieces of chicken. The effect of gravitas was somewhat muted in the circumstances.

"Well, um-"

"Arthur, listen carefully. I do not care what you are doing, whom you are doing it with, or frankly anything else about your current circumstances. You have to get back to the exact spot where you were when you arrived where you are within... " Ford paused and looked are Slartibartfast, who shrugged, "...the next twelve hours. If you don't, you'll be stuck there and you are needed here."

"But I-"

"Earthman, there is grave danger here, and we must have your help to confront it. Another dimensional portal will open in the immediate area where you were in approximately twelve hours. You must be there. The waiters can no longer keep up the pace of the bistromathic equations necessary to keep the small rift open we are using to communicate with you. Twelve hours, Earthman, or all life may come to an end here. Until then..."

What seemed to be an aproned waiter came into the picture, tore a piece of paper from a checkpad, and slapped it down in front of Slartibartfast, who picked it up, frowned at it, and had opened his mouth to speak to the waiter when the transmission abruptly cut off.

XXXXXX

"Well," said Weir, "that was short and sweet. Any idea what that was all about, Arthur."

"Er, no, actually. This is terribly embarrassing. They aren't normally so rude, well, Ford is, but I am still very sorry..." he looked around the table, willing everyone to for God's sake believe him, until Teyla took pity on his obvious mortification.

"That is quite all right, Arthur. The message was obviously for you alone, and we were happy to help you," she said, feeling a stab in her heart at his look of unfeigned gratitude for her words. He was so easy to make happy she felt on the verge of tears again. How had those people treated him?

"Ok," chimed in Sheppard, "so we send you back to P37-104 in twelve hours. No sweat. In the meantime, a hive ship or two will be here in about-" he checked his watch, "- six hours. Anybody wanna talk about that? Little things like what the hell we're gonna do about it? Otherwise, what happens to Arthur is not going to matter a tinker's dam."

"Those are these space vampire fellows you lot are fighting, is that right?" A chorus of nods greeted this question.

"Well, don't you have shields and laser guns and things?"

"Yes, Arthur, but we don't have the power needed to fight for very long, and a prolonged, concentrated orbital bombardment is not something we can handle at this point. We have relied on the fact that this planet has no food for the Wraith on it, and the fact that our presence has heretofore been a secret." explained Weir. She turned to McKay. "How long can we hold out if it comes to that?"

"Without a ZedPM? Ten or twelve hours, tops. Less, if we fire drones or otherwise fight. We're screwed."

"No more defeatist talk, Rodney, or..." Arthur wasn't sure he was seeing correctly when Sheppard pulled a lemon from his pocket and waved it at McKay, who blanched and recoiled from it.

"Well, let's get started on figuring out options, people. We've got some strategizing to do." Weir placed her palms on the conference table before her and looked around the room expectantly.

XXXXXX

Arthur and Teyla sat in the mess area. Teyla ate her vegetable soup while Arthur picked listlessly at his mystery meat and pseudo-potatoes.

"What is wrong, Arthur?"

"Do you all really think I am the reason these Wraith people are coming?"

"We do not think you have deliberately provoked them, if that is what you mean."

"That's not an answer."

Teyla sighed and set her spoon down.

"It does seem rather too much of a coincidence to be unconnected with your arrival," she said begrudgingly, fearing the effect her words would have on the man.

Her fears were justified. He slumped down further in his seat and looked disconsolate, staring at the tabletop. Then he raised his head and looked her straight in the eye.

"This isn't Thursday by any chance, is it?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Teyla and Arthur walked into the gate room just before the hive ships were due to enter orbit. Teyla was actually laughing, in a way Sheppard and the rest of his team had seldom seen, i.e., out loud.

"Well, I didn't think it was terribly funny at the time, I can tell you. I mean, I had eaten all that poor woman's biscuits! What she must have thought of me..." Arthur was saying. "I shudder to think what she told her friends about this complete kneebiter who'd brazenly stolen and consumed her property right in front of her. The destruction of Earth was a relief in at least one way, I can tell you."

"Say," said Sheppard, obscurely jealous of this gormless boob's ability to get a reaction out of Teyla he had never managed, "we're not interrupting anything, what with the whole Wraith-coming-to-kill-us thing, are we?"

"No, John. Arthur was just telling me about a time when he made a rather unfortunate error in identification-" she broke off, giggling (_Giggling?_ Sheppard marveled to himself) into her hand while the other rested on Arthur's shoulder, making him grin like a moonstruck calf.

"Well, good, because we're cloaked, and that's about as far as we've gotten in our plans. We still don't know what they want or how they knew to come here, so we're playing it by ear for now."

"Dr. Weir," called Chuck, "we're getting a signal on multiple frequencies. I don't think they know we're here. They've taken up orbit almost ninety degrees of longitude east of us, and if they were any farther away we wouldn't have picked it up. They are blanketing the planet."

"They know someone is here," mused McKay, "but not who or where. They want something specific, but not us in particular." His face brightened. "This is good! All we have to do is keep our mouths shut and they'll go away!"

"Um, I don't think it'll be that easy, Doctor." Chuck looked at Weir, who nodded, and he flipped the switch which allowed them to hear what he had heard on his headset.

"_Attention inhabitants of this world,"_ came the voice of a Hive Queen, _"We do not detect you on our sensors, but we know you are there. We will spare your lives if, within one day, you hand over the one who has offended us. If you do not, we will begin the systematic bombardment of the surface of this world. We will stay as long as needed and do what is necessary to ensure this planet cannot support life ever again, including the detonation of fission weapons."_

The group exchanged looks worriedly. Wraith didn't use nukes. This bitch was pissed.

"_If you value your lives and your world, you will turn over the one called... **Arthur.**"_

XXXXXX

Arthur suddenly found the bit of floor about ten inches in front of his toes the most interesting bit of floor he had ever seen. He contemplated the way the light reflected from it, and the patterns the stained glass drew on its surface. He wondered about the people who had put it down, and whether they had thought about the possibility that, one day, a man from another universe might seek refuge in its distraction to keep from squirming under the examination of numerous eyes whose scrutiny bored into him like lasers, or, at least, as lasers would have done had their effect been to cause intense embarrassment, shame, and emotional distress instead of burning neat, pencil-sized cauterized holes into their targets, which is the effect laser beams more usually have.

Arthur waited, trying not to shuffle his feet, but was unable to keep his hands from clasping behind his back, nor his body from bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. A quick refrain of "Yellow Submarine" escaped his pursed lips as he gave a valiant but ultimately futile stab at a nonchalant whistle. He was not certain what the reaction from what he was sure his soon-to-be-former friends would be, but he was also sure he wouldn't like it.

"Arthur?" said Weir. Ronon stepped over and planted himself in front of Arthur, forcing him to look up. He turned to regard the group.

"I don't suppose it would do any good to assure you I have no idea what that woman is talking about, that I have never met her or any other Wraith person, and to apologize profoundly for getting everyone into this mess?"

Sheppard put his hands on his hips and looked at his boots. McKay flung his hands out palms upward and appealed to the heavens with his eyes before casting his gaze down and shaking his head. Ronon crossed his arms and smoldered. None of them, even McKay, could appear to think of anything to say in the face of Arthur's statement.

"Elizabeth," said Teyla, taking Arthur by the elbow and leading him away, "why do we not discuss this in the conference room?" Weir nodded and followed without taking her face from her palm, where it had rested since Arthur finished apologizing. The other three trailed rather listlessly behind, single-file.

As they sat down, Teyla made a point of sitting next to Arthur, and held his hand as he stared at the table in front of him. He squeezed her hand back briefly but otherwise appeared lost in his thoughts.

"Options?" said Weir.

"Take a cloaked jumper out a few hundred miles, open the rear hatch, and drop him in a rubber raft with an active subspace beacon. Then fly back and go on with our lives."

"Doctor McKay!" hissed Teyla furiously. "That is not an option and I strongly urge you not to suggest it again!"

McKay, Sheppard, and even Weir gaped at this, for Teyla, unprecedented eruption of emotion for a man she had known for less than a day.

"Look, Teyla-" began Sheppard.

"You may remain silent as well, Colonel, if you have nothing better to suggest." Sheppard's mouth snapped shut with an audible pop.

"What do you suggest, Teyla?" asked Weir cautiously.

"I suggest that the finest diplomat in Pegasus, the military commander of this expedition, and the smartest man in two galaxies find a way out of this besides betraying a helpless man to a race of vicious killers."

"Hey!" Being left out of the roll call stung Ronon out of his habitual taciturn incoherence.

"When there is someone to shoot, Ronon, you will be the first I call." Teyla said impatiently. She glared at McKay meaningfully.

"All right, all right, I'll go see what I can come up with." McKay got up and went for his lab.

"Come, Arthur," said Teyla, rising.

Arthur looked up from the table at her.

"Teyla... maybe-"

"_**No**_, Arthur. Doctor McKay will find another way. Now please come with me."

He got up and followed her out without comment as Weir and Sheppard stared, first at them, then each other, mouths agape.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Hey, Teyla, wait up!" Sheppard jogged down the corridor, rather surprised to see Teyla without Arthur in tow.

"Where's Mr. Dent?" he asked as he caught up to her.

"He is in his quarters, contemplating Rodney's and your desire to abandon him to his fate with the Wraith."

"Hey, I never said-"

"You did not have to, John. Rodney, even Ronon, I would have expected it from, but you... I am disappointed."

Sheppard ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it in a slightly different direction. "Look, we don't even know this guy, or why the Wraith want him, or anything. Should we sacrifice the city for him? I mean, your people are here, too, now."

"I am aware they have been evacuated from the mainland to the city, John. They would not turn over an innocent to save themselves any more than I would."

"How sure are we Arthur's innocent, huh?" She cut him off with a glare.

"Ok, fine," he conceded, "I don't really think that guy's ever done anything deliberately mean in his life. But, dammit, Teyla, like I said, we'll be just as radioactive whether he meant it or not!"

"I am not having this discussion, John. Rodney will find a way or you will, or Elizabeth will, but Arthur_** is not going to be sacrificed**_."

"Jeez, what is it with you and this guy, anyway? I mean, you haven't even known him twenty-four hours yet and you're acting like his mother-" she narrowed her eyes, "- big sister," he amended.

"That is my business, John. However, since you ask, Arthur has had a very bad time for a very long time. He has experienced things no one should have to, and been treated like an animal for his trouble. He is a kind and gentle man, who has managed to stay that way in spite of all that has happened to him. You heard those so-called friends of his! They not only didn't care for his well-being, they told him so in so many words. The only thing they were worried about was their need. Arthur was something they needed, not a person. Now he is something we need, through no fault of his own, and I will not allow him to be used as a commodity to save our own skins. That is final."

Sheppard sighed as she walked away from him towards the mess hall. He turned and set off in search of McKay, hoping like hell the man had come up with something to keep Teyla from killing them all.

XXXXXX

"I got nothing."

"I don't want to hear that crap, McKay."

"Well, tough, because it's the truth. Look, there are three hive ships in orbit, and at least two more on the way. One, maybe two, we could handle _**if**_we had at least one good ZedPM. As it is, one alone would be sufficient to destroy the city in less than a day. We just have no way of fighting right now. I don't know what to tell you."

"Work something out, dammit! Think positive!"

"Hello? What did I just say about _**NO DAMN POWER**_? I can't make it work without the parts, no matter how _**positive**_ I think!"

"Well, look, if you don't come up with something-"

"I _**did**_ come up with something-"

"Something which will _**not**_ end with Teyla killing us both, Rodney! Arthur is not on the table here. Figure something else."

"Well, I did figure one thing out. I think I may know why the Wraith are here and why they want Arthur." McKay turned back to his laptop and beckoned Sheppard to look. Interest piqued, Sheppard leaned over his shoulder.

"Since the Daedalus picked up that rift that Nutty McKilledusall came out of, Zelenka has had Atlantis's sensors looking for similar phenomenon, including in the immediate area. Well, guess what happened not too long after our good buddy Arthur showed up?"

"A rift opened up here in Atlantis."

"Ding-ding-ding! Right where he was sitting in the conference room." McKay pointed at an irregular blob on a city schematic showing the area in question. "Now look at this." He pulled up security camera footage of the room on an adjacent computer.

"I've synced up the time indexes of the sensor log and the camera." He started both running from the same point.

"Now, we're talking, yada-yada-yada, I leave the room, aaaaaaaand here's where Chuck told you about the probe, aaaaaaand here's where he told you what it was saying." Sheppard watched his and everyone else's head pivot as one to look at Arthur, just as the blob appeared on the sensor image. He saw Arthur mouth the words _I seem to be having tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle_, and the blob faded within a few seconds.

"All I can figure is that that rift led to wherever that queen was at the time, and what Arthur said is some kind of deadly insult in Wraith."

"Are you telling me-"

"Yup. Arthur accidentally pissed off a Wraith Queen not only without knowing it, but without being in the same part of the galaxy."

"But how-"

"Did she find us? We know Teyla's Wraith-sense can work over a distance, she must have felt Arthur's mind through the rift and figured out where he was somehow. Also explains how she knew his name." McKay leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, regarding Sheppard expectantly.

"Crap, crap, crap."

"Yeah. Now we know it's not his fault, so what the hell do we do?"

XXXXXX

"Are you sure about this, Rodney?" asked Weir.

"As sure as we can get without asking Queenie in person."

"The poor man, completely by accident, made enemies with a Wraith alliance he had never seen or visited or even heard of, within hours of coming to this reality?"

"That's about the size of it," Sheppard confirmed.

"What can we do, Rodney."

"Nothing. We just don't have the power. If we de-cloak, raise the shield, and duke it out, we'll be dead or in cocoons within six hours. We have no nukes we could sneak aboard their ships in cloaked jumpers, we don't have enough people to assault directly, and we can't dial out and abandon the city without being cut off from Earth forever."

"We'll keep that as a last resort, then. If they start bombarding the planet with nuclear weapons, we'll dial up and get out. They'll start with the mainland, so we should have plenty of time to evacuate everyone, along with most of our portable equipment. We'll just have to rely on the SGC to find a way to rescue us down the road."

"Now," she said with a deep sigh, "let's call Teyla and Arthur and give them the good news."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

There was an uncomfortable silence around the conference table, in much the same way as there would be after one has heard the final warning siren while in the outhouse at a nuclear bomb test site, rushed to the observation bunker, and tried the knob only to find the door locked.

Arthur looked at each of the command staff at the table in turn, except Teyla, who was immediately to his left. Everyone had avoided his eye, except Ronon, who held his gaze and folded his arms, as if telling Arthur that he knew what he had to do. Which Arthur did.

"Well, Doctor McKay," Arthur said with false heartiness, "it looks as if you had the proper plan from the outset."

"No, Arthur-"

"Teyla, please," he said, placing his hand on hers briefly before interlacing his fingers and resting his hands on the table. "There is no way around it. I cannot allow these chaps to injure you all, so I have to take my chances. I am ready to go whenever you can get that raft and submarine whatever-it-was ready."

"Subspace beacon," said Rodney, "and I took the liberty of doing that first thing after the meeting an hour ago." He yelped as Sheppard elbowed him in the ribs.

"Someday soon, Rodney, we are going to have a discussion about a little thing you missed growing up called 'tact.'"

"No, no, it's quite all right, Colonel. To be honest, I am not really afraid. It all seems too bloody absurd, I just can't believe I am in any danger. Probably complete rot, of course, but, when one has been thrown out of an airlock and been picked up just before dying of asphyxiation, and escaped one's home planet just before it was destroyed, and lived on prehistoric Earth for five years, three of them all alone, not to mention all the times I was shot at, blown up, and insulted, I just can't seem to convince myself some damn space vampire can do me in. And let's not even get into Vogon poetry. Silly, I know, but there it is."

"Arthur..." began Teyla almost pleadingly.

"Did I mention I survived the end of the universe? Didn't even get to finish my meal. No," Arthur said with a ghastly smile, patting Teyla's hand, "I'll just go see this Hive Queen woman, explain it was all a mistake, and be back in time for tea. I'm sure she'll listen to reason. My mind is made up," he said with unexpected sternness as Teyla began to speak again. She got up and left quickly.

"Now, then, fellows," he said, "what do I need to do?"

XXXXXX

The cloaked jumper skimmed over the surface of the ocean, putting as much distance as possible between itself and Atlantis before dropping off its cargo.

The cargo in question was in the back with McKay, going over how to activate the beacon once he was out the back door.

"So, just turn this bit here, and they'll come get me?"

"Yeah," said McKay glumly, feeling unexpectedly guilty about what they were about to do.

"We're almost to the two-hundred-mile mark. Get the raft ready." Sheppard called back to them.

Ronon came into the rear compartment to manhandle the automatic raft into position as Sheppard brought the jumper down to hover a few feet off of the water. He opened the rear door and, as it dropped into position, Ronon slid the raft down it, pulling the inflation cord as he did so. He secured the hawser to a cleat inside the door while Arthur took the beacon from McKay.

"Hey," said Ronon to Arthur, who looked up in surprise, "good luck." He held out his hand, and Arthur took it briefly before descending the ramp and getting into the raft.

"Remember, have the tea warmed up for me when I get back, eh?" he waved as the ramp raised up and the jumper disappeared. He flipped the switch on the beacon and waited.

XXXXXX

Sheppard moved the jumper off a few hundred yards and hovered. Arthur sat in the raft looking at the beacon. After a few minutes, they saw him look up. Following his gaze, they saw the dart coming down to investigate. It swooped over the raft, there was a flash of light, and the raft was empty.

Sheppard turned the jumper back towards Atlantis and they started out for home.

XXXXXX

The fellows with the odd masks who had met Arthur when he was re-materialized had been quite untalkative, despite his best efforts at friendliness. He had been motioned forwards and moved off in the direction indicated.

Now he was being escorted down a corridor which seemed rather exactly like the corridor he had just come from, and which he anticipated would strongly resemble the next corridor they turned into. He had just congratulated himself on his foresight when the guard in front of him stopped abruptly. Arthur managed to avoid running into him and realized that they had stopped in front of what he thought might be a door, although he couldn't be sure because of the hideous décor.

The door, as it indeed turned out to be, opened, and Arthur was roughly chivvied inside. He looked back at the guards, wondering what to do next, and one of them helpfully pointed at what appeared to be some sort of large throne-like chair up against the opposite wall of the room. Arthur walked forward, nervous in spite of his bravado back on Atlantis, and peered about.

"Er, hello? Um, I would like to say that this has all been a misunderstanding, first of all, and no offense was meant-"

_**SILENCE! **_

The word came from a place Arthur could only assume was in his head. The team had mentioned that the Wraith had some sort of psychic powers, and it would likely be very unpleasant for Arthur if they used them overmuch on him. It made him feel rather unpleasant.

The shape of a tall woman appeared in the shadows beside the throne. As she came forward, Arthur saw her long, black hair, skin-tight red gown, and pale green skin resolve in the light. Yellow eyes glittered at him.

"_You are the one called... Arthur?_" she hissed. The pause in the sentence rather unnerved Arthur.

"Er, yes, that is, I am the only Arthur in these parts, though I suppose there could be another I am unaware of-"

She hissed again and darted her head forward, stopping inches from his face.

"_You dare to insult **me**, greatest of Queens, human?_"

"Well, no, actually, you see, that's a funny thing, because-"

"_**FUNNY?**_"

"Well, not 'funny ha-ha,' more 'funny strange,' in that it was completely unintentional, you see, there was this rift thing-"

"_You did not understand what you did? You really expect me to believe that, human? You did not know what you called me?_" She stalked away from him, gesturing in annoyance.

"Of course, I would never insult such a lovely creature as yourself, naturally-" He stopped as she swiveled sharply to face him.

"_Go on_," she said, eyes narrowed.

"Er, I mean, a fellow would have to be mad to anger such a beautiful woman, it goes without saying," he carried on brightly. Was he really going to be able to bareface his way out of this? It hadn't worked with that Vogon bastard. Her demeanor seemed to invite further comment.

"After all, most men go their whole lives without meeting someone like you, powerful, gorgeous, strong-willed, and intelligent, of course. You have to be the most perfectly charming woman I have ever met, really."

She had been slowly circling him as he said this, and now she put a long-nailed hand on his shoulder as she passed, drawing it slowly across his chest.

She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "_So you **did** mean what you said, hmm, human_?" Arthur stifled a yelp as her tongue darted out and licked his cheek. Oh, dear God. Arthur could feel himself becoming aroused despite himself, a matter not helped when her hand darted down and she took stock of his reaction for herself.

"_Ahhh_," she sighed in his ear before nibbling on it gently, "_you will do nicely_... _**Arthur**_. _I may even let you live_."

"That would be extremely kind of you," said Arthur, not at all sure if he was telling the truth.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Chuck looked at his display showing the current status of the orbiting Wraith ships, as he had been doing for the past four hours since the jumper had returned. He was not sure they were doing what they appeared to be doing, so he hesitated to call Dr. Weir. Then the radio crackled to life and he heard a voice he did not expect to ever hear again. The command staff had not said much about what the deal was with the strange bearded guy, but the grapevine had put enough together to give a tolerably accurate picture of what was going on, not to mention the fact that the Wraith had asked for him by name. He knew that Arthur had been taken out to be turned over to the them, apparently by his own request, and he knew that Colonel Sheppard's team had come back and that no rescue was planned. All this pointed to Arthur's departure being something on the other side of permanent, yet here was his hesitant, rather shaky voice coming over Chuck's headset.

"_Er, hello? Anyone there? I had those Wraith people set me down here, and the radio was where you said it was, so..._"

"Mr. Dent, is that you?" said Chuck, keeping his voice calm.

"_Ah, yes, it's Chuck, isn't it? How are you? Could you ask the Colonel or someone to pop over and get me? I'm not feeling terribly well, I'm afraid._"

Chuck hit the intercom button. "Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard to the gate room!" he called, unable to keep the excitement from his voice any longer.

They came walking in rapidly, questioning looks on their faces, followed by McKay, Teyla, and Ronon.

"It's Mr. Dent," said Chuck, "he's on the Athosian frequency, calling from the mainland. He wants someone to 'pop over' and pick him up."

Teyla, McKay, and Weir stood stock-still, jaws slack. Ronon's eyebrows lifted perceptibly. Colonel Sheppard, however, sprang into action, almost running for the jumper bay.

"Oh, by the way," said Chuck, almost as an afterthought, "the hive ships in orbit are leaving, and the ones still on the way have turned around."

Chuck wished he had a feather, so he could have knocked them down with it.

XXXXXX

"_This is Sheppard. Have a medical team standing by when I get to the jumper bay._"

"Is Arthur all right?" asked Teyla over her headset.

"_Ahhhh, yes and no. I'll let him, uh, explain._"

The team and Weir strode into the jumper bay behind the med team, and waited as they entered the jumper, only to hear Arthur's protests over their attention.

"No, no, honestly, I'm quite all right, I wasn't feeling well a while ago, but the ride in this contraption has set me up amazingly. I also had one of those- what was it, Colonel?"

"Power bar."

"Exactly. And I feel much, much better. Please, I would just like a shower, honestly. I would reeeealy like a shower."

The med team exited the jumper, followed by Arthur with a blanket around his shoulders and Sheppard, who looked strangely uncomfortable. Teyla was unable to contain herself, and went forward, drawing Arthur into an embrace and hugging him tightly. She felt him stiffen as she pressed against his chest.

"Agh, Teyla, this is wonderful of you, but..." She pulled back, looking down and noticing blood spotted on his t-shirt where the blanket had fallen open.

"You have been fed on!" she cried, aghast.

"Oh, er, is that what you folks call it in this galaxy?" he said, blushing furiously. Then he saw where she was looking. "Oh, oh, _that_. Where she put her hand. Yes, yes, I suppose, I'm not sure."

Sheppard had collapsed in silent mirth on the ramp of the jumper after Arthur's pronouncement. "You better tell 'em the rest," he said in between gasps.

"Perhaps somewhere more private?" said Weir, garnering a grateful look from Arthur. The group headed for the conference room.

XXXXXX

"This place is starting to feel quite homelike," said Arthur, looking around the conference room. He seemed to have slipped into a bit of a daze during the short walk from the jumper bay.

"Arthur," prompted Sheppard.

"Oh, uh, yes, what happened. Of course..."

The others stared.

"Well, Doctor McKay, you were quite right, what I said is, indeed, a deadly insult in their language."

McKay smirked and folded his arms in satisfaction.

"But it turns out that the Wraith have some... odd ideas of the uses of insults." Arthur paused lengthily.

"Well what the hell is that supposed to mean?" exploded McKay.

"Erm," said Arthur, blushing again, "I accidentally, ah..."

"Well?"

"... Initiated a courtship ritual."

A diverse array of reactions greeted this revelation. Teyla looked horrified, Ronon disgusted, McKay amused, and Sheppard seemed torn between all three. Weir's mouth twitched, but she remained otherwise outwardly impassive.

"Please go on."

"Eh, must I...?"

"Please."

"Well, she was initially quite angry with me, and I have to admit there were a couple of moments when I thought I might have to do something unexpected to salvage the situation, but I, um, paid her some rather nice compliments-"

"You _**WHAT**_?"

"Shaddup, Rodney." Sheppard motioned for Arthur to continue.

"Well, I said some nice things to her about... things, her hair and so forth, and she started, ah, _doing_ things..."

"Like what things?" asked McKay, fascinated in a traffic-accident kind of way.

"Just... things. Things, ah, men and women... do. Surely you can use your imagination-"

"_**NO**_!" the rest shouted in unison.

"Oh, very well, then," said Arthur, finally losing his temper a bit. "She threatened to kill me for my 'insolence,' so I told her what a lovely Wraith Queen she was and how much I'd always wanted to meet a woman like her. She seemed to take that well and explained that if I 'pleased' her she would let me live and not destroy the planet and all of you lot with it. So I said some more nice things and then I- what was that phrase you used on the ship, Colonel?"

"'Took one for the team.'"

"Yes, I took one for the team. I must say I don't appreciate some of the looks I'm seeing here. That woman _bites_."

"Yet you managed to... 'please' her, Arthur?" Teyla's voice was carefully modulated to avoid being accusatory.

"Yes, yes I did, by God, and I must say I am rather proud of myself under the circumstances. That thing she did with her hand hurt quite a bit at first. Also, I would like to point out that, in my personal timeline, it has been over six years since my last _intimate moment_ with a woman. That weighs on a fellow. Honestly, what is the problem? That I shagged the woman or that I might have enjoyed it? Because I had to, didn't I? If I hadn't, I couldn't have... pleased her. And if I hadn't pleased her, we wouldn't be talking now, would we?"

"Arthur," said Weir, "we all appreciate your... sacrifice-"

"No, no, I don't really think you do. I don't think you think it was a sacrifice at all. After all, I could have asked you please to send me back to whatever that planet was you found me on to wait for the rift to get me home, instead of doing what I did, I suppose. But I didn't want to leave you in the lurch, as it were, especially since I accidentally sort of caused it, so I went up there and sorted things out. And I did it by _**making a Wraith Queen scream my name!**_ I'd like a shower now. I'm very tired."

Arthur got up and left.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Well, that went well!"

"Rodney!"

"Look, Sheppard, crisis averted, everyone's alive, and I'm hungry. Let's send Kinky McWraithsnogger back where he came from and move the hell on!"

Teyla stood abruptly. "If there will be nothing further..." she said to Weir, who waved at the door. She left without looking at the others.

"What's her problem?"

"McKay, you can be a real ass, you know that?" sighed Sheppard.

XXXXXX

Arthur had just finished toweling off when the door chimed. He shrugged into his battered and threadbare but finally laundered bathrobe before signaling the door open to admit Teyla.

"Oh, hello," he said. "I didn't expect to see you before I left." He smiled to show that there were no hard feelings.

"Why not?"

"Oh, well, you all seemed rather unhappy with what I had to do, er, up there, and I guess I got a bit miffed about it."

"The Wraith are a scourge on the humans of this galaxy, the very embodiment of our nightmares. We cannot help but loathe them. But you..."

"Made the 'beast with two backs' with one?"

"It is... unsettling."

"Well, there was no help for it at the time, I assure you."

"I am sure it was unpleasant-"

"No, no, I quite enjoyed most of it."

Teyla looked taken aback.

"I'm only human, Teyla, and she was only... whatever she is. Whenever I, um, finished, she would put her hand on my chest and suddenly I was, ah, ready to go again. We did a number of things I had honestly not considered doing before, to be frank, and I rather had fun. I say, would you like to sit down, you look a bit green."

"Yes, Arthur, I believe I will." Teyla sat at the table.

"Look, Teyla, I have had worse experiences, far worse, believe me. She nipped at me a bit, but by and large, it wasn't that terrible.

"Apparently," he continued, "she has some sort of, ah, 'fetish' I suppose is the best word. The fellow with the tattoo on his face who came and got me afterwards told me about it. He chuckled a good bit. I gathered from the way he talked that it's looked on rather like we look at chaps who fancy cows and goats and whatnot. Not terribly flattering, but we're alive, so there's that."

"And the queen actually kept her word? To a human? I have to say, I am amazed, Arthur."

"Well, she seemed quite, ah, fatigued when I left her. She didn't seem much in the mood for planet-killing. Felt rather good about that, actually. Said some rather flattering things about my 'tolerance.' Odd phrasing I thought, but, still..." He sat opposite her with a smile.

Teyla couldn't resist bursting his bubble. "When she put her hand on your chest, Arthur, she was injecting you with an enzyme which increased your energy and endurance."

"Ah." Arthur looked crestfallen and Teyla felt somewhat ashamed.

"I am sure, however, that it was your innate... ability which pleased her."

"Gosh. Thanks."

Teyla laughed and reached across the table to still Arthur's hand, the fingers of which were now beating a tattoo on the tabletop.

"I am sorry, that wasn't kind. We are all very grateful for what you did."

"Really? Because I got the impression you all thought I was a rather nasty sort of fellow. I suppose you must feel about me like the French felt about those women who slept with Germans during the war, _collaboratrices_ or whatever they called them."

Teyla had no clue what he was talking about, but she could see he was deeply affected. She suddenly felt ashamed of the way she had reacted to his admission in the conference room. She had to make it up to him, or she would be no better than the so-called "friends" of his that she had railed against to Sheppard. She had to make things right.

"No, Arthur, I do not think you are a... _collaboratrice_." She took his hand and got up, pulling him to his feet as she did so. She stepped close to him and took him slowly into her embrace. She could think of no other act which would convince him of her true repentance for her earlier feelings of revulsion.

"Ahhh, Teyla..." Arthur was trembling and sounded almost terrified. She realized that... something... was poking her in the navel. Her eyes widened as she pulled back and looked into Arthur's apologetic eyes.

"I guess that... enzyme or whatever is still affecting me. I'm terribly, terribly sorry." He looked mortified.

Teyla smiled slightly and took his face in her hands before giving him a soft kiss.

"Are you sure it is just the enzyme talking? I would find that quite... unflattering."

Arthur's eyes, evidently jealous of Teyla's, decided they weren't going to be left out of this whole "widening" thing, and took it upon themselves to go beyond simple opening past their normal palpebral expansion into realms hitherto undreamt of in the annals of scleral exposure.

"I believe we still have several hours before you are due back on P37-104."

Arthur's jaw, not to be outdone by those snooty bastards who thought they were so cool just because they were above Arthur's nose rather than below, shrewdly chose that moment to make its foray into arena of abnormal mandibular distension.

She laughed at his expression before drawing his head down to hers.

XXXXXX

"_In the town where I was born,  
Lived a man who sailed to sea,  
And he told us of his life,  
In the land of submarines..._"

Slather the mustard on the bread, so. A bit of ham, perhaps a bit more, and now a slice of dill pickle or two.

"_So we sailed on to the sun,  
Till we found the sea of green,  
And we lived beneath the waves,  
In our yellow submarine..._"

A bit of mayonnaise on each side of another slice of bread, a couple more dill chips, and a generous helping of turkey. Some lettuce and a slice of tomato, a strip or two of bacon, and another verse of "Yellow Submarine."

"_We all live in a yellow submarine,  
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,  
We all live in a yellow submarine,  
yellow submarine, yellow submarine_..."

Arthur slapped the top slice of bread on his sandwich, still humming and completely oblivious to the dead silence surrounding him in the half-full mess area. He was blissfully unaware of the eyes following him warily to his seat at what the other occupants of the mess were relieved to note was an empty table comfortably far from where they had surreptitiously clustered together on one side of the hall during Arthur's completely unexpected command performance. The normal hum of conversation cautiously resumed after Arthur stopped humming and laid into his sandwich with gusto.

The eyes which had remained fixed suspiciously on him as if afraid of a spontaneous rendition of "Golden Slumbers" averted themselves hastily as Teyla (and her potential wrath if she caught them staring) entered the mess and crossed to sit with, as Arthur had been affectionately labeled, "that goddam Wraith-fucker."

Those with sharper peripheral vision noted McKay come in a few seconds later and join them.

"So, Arthur, almost time to get back to where you once belonged, eh?"

Arthur swallowed his bite of club and nodded politely.

"Listen, what was it like?" asked McKay, _sotto voce. _"Seriously, are they... y'know, _built_ the same and everything? Is the, ah, _plumbing_ compatible?"

"Really, Doctor. A gentleman does not kiss and tell."

"I am certainly glad to hear you say that, Arthur," said Teyla, grinning mischievously at him, perfectly aware of the effect her words and demeanor were about to have on McKay.

McKay, for his part, though not being known for his quickness on the uptake in non-scientific situations, processed the implied meaning of these words and the subsequent exchange of looks between Arthur and Teyla with astonishing rapidity for a man of his social density. He looked rather stricken, like a man who, after being tied to a stake and tortured for some length of time and holding on through it all to the hope that the man he left on the boat to radio in the airstrike would be calling in the B-52s any time now, has just had that man's severed head unceremoniously laid in his lap. The horror, one might say, overwhelmed him.

"Oh, God!" he cried, springing up and drawing looks as his chair went over backwards and crashed to the floor. He looked back and forth between them in shock. They both looked back at him with airs of perfect inquisitive innocence. The magnitude of the realization struck full force.

"_**OH, JESUS H. GOD!**_" He ran from the mess wishing for a frogging gig so he could poke out his mind's eye.

"What an odd chap," said Arthur, taking another bite of his suddenly extraordinarily tasty sandwich.


End file.
